Tricks and Treats of the East (SYOC still open!)
by Storm0Wolf
Summary: SYOC. In the lands far East of the Red Waste, the wars of the Seven Kingdom have no meaning. The people of the empire don't concern themselves with who sits on the Iron Throne, but who wears the Jade Crown. As the lands fall into starvation and revolt, the Queen struggles to hold onto power, and each realm must make its stand. Some fall, some flourish, but all will bow to the Crown
1. Chapter 1

It's been a while since I've been on this site, and I've missed it. This is a Submit Your Own Character (SYOC) story based on Game of Thrones

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*Setting: Around the time that Robert Stark is declared King of the North, but this story takes place outside of the Seven Kingdoms, in a land East of the Red Waste.

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Also since I will need many characters, this SYOC will technically never close, since it's easy for me to add in new people at different times as I need them, so if you come up with a new character in the middle of the story you feel would fit perfectly, go on in send them in. There is no limit. However, I will have to reject some people if I have to many like them or they're just boring. All the main characters will be chosen within the first five chapters. So if you want them to have a big part, send them in early.

I need 4 main characters, 9 supporting characters, and an unlimited amount of minor characters. Remember, people die, so some random minor character can be launched up to a major part!

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Rules:

Make sure to answer every part of the application. I didn't ask for anything completely irrelevant like blood type or celebrity look alike, so that shouldn't be to hard. If you don't use this application, your character will be ignored.

Send the OC through PM, if this story is deleted for some reason, I don't want to lose anyone's profile.

Make sure the names fit the time period, or culture of there homeland. If you give me names like Angel and the kingdom they're from isn't religious and only believes in science, then I might ask you to change it.

If you did create your own kingdom or lands, there is an additional part you will have to fill out. Don't worry it's pretty short, so you won't be here forever. If you read all these rules, put "Holy Mother of Dragons!" in the subject line.

5. For the love of all that is my sanity, be original!

Application

Name:

Gender:

Age:

Appearance: (You don't have to go overboard, but the more detail means the more I can picture them and better screen time. **Edit 7/22/2-13: Not everyone can be beautiful. Its a fact. Be creative.**)

Personality: (Put in things like how they react to stress as well as a basic overview of there basic mannerism. Also don't have them be crazy sweet and gentle, but then do a 180 and be slicing everyone's throat. If you want them to behave a certain way, tell me that that's just an act, and add what their real personality is at the core.)

Tittle/Station in life: (**Edit 7/22/2013: I am no longer accepting King, Queens, Lords, or Ladies. There are still openings for Knights, maids, council members, ect. Be creative. You may choose what City they are from/currently in, either Cidaris, Unending Forrest, Miser, Tise, or the Capitol.**)

Skills: (Up to three, things like sewing, horse riding, poetry, archery, dancing, gathering information, ect.)

Family History: (Be brief please.)

Important family members: (Like wife, sister, brother, mother, father, person they're having an affair with)

Characteristics: (Are they intelligent, idiotic, cunning, naïve, ruthless, or insecure?)

Pets: (No wolves, lions, or dragons please. Things like horses, dogs, and if you can give me a good enough justification in the history, maybe something like a cougar or fox, but there must be a good explanation for it!)

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*Stop here is your person does not own any kind of land, because I will place them in a land based on where I can fit them. If you do own/rule over a land, continue.

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Name of Land:

What does the geography look like?: (Mountains, surrounded by the sea, desert. I want to know, because during wars these types of things matter.)

What is the main Export?: (If you live in a forest it might be medicine from the plants or wood furniture, carvings, or just lumber. Make it make sense with the geography.)

Is it a large city, a town, or a small village?:

What is the land known for?:

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That's all, so you can all stop there! If there is something extra you wanted to add, just put an "other" section.


	2. Chapter 2

The castle of Cidaris never smelt as wonderful as it did in the spring. Freshly bloomed flowers where severed from their roots and arranged, superbly, in reefs and vases throughout the castle. Maids and squires scurried around the city gathering silks requested by Lady Silvia or delivering invitations at the request of Lord Maurizio. The citizens were hopeful for the upcoming year, hopeful for a large harvest, hopeful for good rain, hopeful for lower taxes, and hopeful for peace. There was nothing else they wished for, although some of the children wished for new toys, the young girls for a wealthy husband, the young men for good work, and the whores for new clientele.

As young Lady Rosella looked down on the city she longed to escape the boredom of sewing, pale hands guided the needle through the cloth again and again. She glanced up with dark blue eyes at her guest, the sole reason she had not thrown her sewing to the floor and returned to the gardens.

"Have you begun packing for the trip to Miser yet My Lady?" Rosella's aunt, Sybelle, continued with her work, designing a beautiful tree that showed far more skill than Rosella's little flowers. It was not a skill she often practiced anyway, after all, there were more important things that she worked on, like her writing.

"Yes, I have finished everything, however, I am upset that we must leave the city during such wonderful weather. Doesn't it rain often in Miser?" Rosella put her sewing down, staring directly at her aunt with blank eyes. She did not understand how her aunt could not be bored by such meaningless task, and continued to look out the window. The people where always moving, always doing something meaningful, while she sat in this room learning useless skills like sewing, poetry, and manners. However, she knew she was a lady, and made an effort to behave like one.

Aunt Sybelle glanced over at her for a moment, lips turning down when she noticed Rosella's unfinished work, but did not comment on it. "I wouldn't know. I have never been. Tell me girl," She paused her words, deciding that now would be a good time for a geography lesson, "what house controls Miser?"

" The Motra family, the sigil is the panther." The answer was automatic, rehearsed until it was impossible to be forgotten. Rosella felt a slight itch on her shoulder, but did not move to scratch it. It was not proper for women to scratch, so she did not. She was not allowed to do many things, like squat or run or drink rum. She was not even allowed to wash her own body without being yelled out for doing not being feminine enough.

She tuned out Aunt Sybelle as she began to go into an in-depth political lecture about the overthrow of the Bassons, and the importance of the wedding and other meaningless information.

The large wooden door groaned in agony as it was shoved open. The Head of the Guard, Jerrah Emly stode through the door as two men stood posted in the hall, his armor not making a sound, indicating to the pride and effort his squire put into its care. His dark blond hair was plagued with sliver clumps, and dark brown eyes were decorated with wrinkles. Aunt Sybelle rose to her feet quickly, beaming as she greeted her husband, and by extension, Rosella's uncle.

Kissing him lightly, and asking polite and concise questions about the meeting, Aunt Sybella played the role of wife perfectly, doting on her beloved husband. Of course, Rosella thought, she was lucky enough to many a man that she loved and knew in her childhood. Jerrah was a good man, a feared warrior, and respected defender of Cidaris. He has been Head of the Guard longer than Rosella has been alive. He was a stern and serious man, but often showed moments of playfulness to her when she was a young child, a sort of second father.

He was a good man, a loving husband, and a loyal friend. Rosella was glad he was accompanying them to Miser, after all, there were many tales of bandits and men of evil intentions hidden on the roads of Miser.

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"Honestly my Lord, it would be good for our relations with the other noble familes if you attended the wedding for Lord Satano Motra and Lady Miza Basson. This festival of your can wait, but this may be one of our only chances to heighten their view of you." Aelan continued to ignore his advisor, polishing off the long blade of his sword as his son and daughter played meaningless games on the floor.

Aelan had no real interest in the marriage. There was no love, nothing but another family trying to cling onto the little power it had, trying to reach for something that was never in their grasp. He could already predict how the marriage would be. He put the blade down, and picked up another, thinner, blade that required his attention.

The young girl, Miza, was rumored to be pretty enough, not a stunning maiden like Rosella from Cidaris, or a majestic beauty like the Queens daughter. Miza would keep Satano's attention for maybe two or three months, however long it took her to get with child, before he would return to his whores, because it was no secret that he had many. She would grow to resent him, for she was a wild and stubborn creature, and that would be their life. Maybe they may have two or more children, but there will be no love.

"Father!" Aelan quickly moved his blade out of the way as his son came bounding into his lap, bored of his sister. Arwon's black hair was a mess as usual from being outside, but Aelan didn't mind, as long as the boy was active.

"My Lord, it is important that" His advisor was visibly turning red from being ignored, but halted his speech as soon as Aelan rolled his eyes and politely dismissed him until a later time. The old man huffed, leaving the warm room quickly.

Aelan did not want to hear anymore about the marriage, for he would not go and that was final. As Lord of the Unending Forrest, he was the youngest of all the current ruling lords at twenty-five, and many still did not take his leadership seriously. Even though he has fought valiantly for the queen his entire life, many still saw him as to immature to run a land as vast as the Unending Forrest.

"Father!" Arwon continued to call for his attention, his chubby face pouting when his father ruffled his hair, but continued thinking. He loved his children, more than he loved anyone, maybe even his dead wife, but there were times when he could not play with them. Something knocked into his leg, and he looked down to see Naela, his adorable little toddler. It was a bit early to tell, but he knew she would be a beauty like her mother, as well as a handful of energy. Scooping her into his arms he placed her on his other knee, so both his children could sit on him.

The other Lords and Ladies were to political for his liking, they were all boring and liars.

There was an explosion outside and he was knocked from his chair, his children screaming in terror. Disoriented, he pulled them closer to him, before standing up. The nursemaid and multiple guards can rushing into the room, trying to usher them to a safe room hidden in the wall.

"No, no," Aelan shoved his children into the room, smiling at them quickly before turning back to the middle aged women. "You stay with them, and you three," he motioned to the first three to his left, "stay with them. The rest of you come with me."

He quickly put on his armor, the vibrant green tree on his sigil shone brightly on the metal. The newly polished sword was strapped to his side as he exited the room.

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"Have you ever been to Miser, Merek?" The sun cast a light orange glow over Cidaris, the imposing mountain blocked much of the light, only allowing a small shimmer to light the streets of the city. Rosella walked though her mother's garden, her personal servant for the trip, Merek trailing behind her slightly.

Although her mother insisted on her taking her usual hand maids, her uncle and father agreed it would be better to have a male, someone who could protect her as well as serve her. Merek was a gifted swordsman, but only knew the basics. Most of his life was spent waiting on nobles; well that's what Rosella assumed anyway.

He was an unusual servant. He could read and he could use a sword, both uncommon skills.

"Yes, My Lady, I have delivered many messages to that city in my life." His answer was concise and offered little information. Although she did not like prying, she continued on.

"Is it true what they say about the roads? That they are littered with bandits and gypsies, and creatures of the night?" Rosella kept her tone neutral, not wanting him to know the extent of her interest. His black hair, kept back with a band, she noticed was long, almost reaching his lower back. However, he did not seem to care about her interest, and answered dutifully.

"Gypsies travel often, so there is no way to know when they will be in a specific place. As for the bandits and creature of the night, you will be well protected by the guards My Lady; there is no need to worry." Rosella wanted to roll her eyes, he was so boring.

"Merek, tell me if you bore you because I would not want to bother you."

He scoffed lightly, a small smile on his lips. "Forgive my inattention, My Lady. I was simply reminiscing about my family's garden. These flowers remind me of home." Now she was interested, she loved to know things about people, and hated to be left in the dark. She slowed her pace slightly, the cool winds rushed down from the mountain to push at her hair and dress.

"Your mother gardened, so she was a farmer?" A women rushed passed them, carrying a bucket filled with water that sloshed onto the gravel, almost wetting their shoes.

"No. My family simply had a garden." He answered, listening to the many birds and crickets that filled the night with noise. It was turning chilly, and he guided Rosella back to the castle. His long woolen clothes offered more protection from the night chill, than her fitted red dress, and he did not want her to get sick before they left for Miser.

Rosella's face stayed the same, but inside her curiosity grew. She now knew nothing more than she did before. She was always interested in the lives of her people. Walks though the city were common for her, and the people adored her for her kindness and good will. Everyone had an interesting story to tell about their lives, especially the servants. Funny tales of their day or even little mishaps in their childhood that led to them becoming servants. However, being the only servant she knew of who could read and use a sword, she really wanted to know.

Although many saw her as aloof and poised, she was a very curious person, but she simply hid it better than others. They arrived at her room and Merek bowed and left. The servant girl in her room rushed to get out her clothing for the night and brush her hair.

"Myri," Rosella addressed the red haired girl, "what do you know about my new servant Merek."

The girl was not surprised by the question, Lady Rosella often asked questions about the house servants, they would spend hours gossiping. Well to her it was gossiping, to Rosella it was gathering information. When she was the head of her house she wanted to be kind to her people, respected by the other houses, yet feared by enemies.

"Well, he's about your age, seventeen I think, so that would make him a year younger than you. Some of the girls think he's cute, not handsome, but cute."

"You know I don't care about that stuff, I mean about his history, Myri."

"Oh forgive me My Lady, I often forget that you don't like to gossip about those things." Myri did not seem all that sorry though, and continued on talking and brushing at Rosella's hair. "He was just brought here recently, a few of the guards found him half starved outside the city, and with no place to go."

"Why did he have no place to go?" Rosella couldn't imagine having a home, Cirdaris was where she belonged and if it was taken from her, she didn't know how she would cope.

"I've heard rumors," Rosella looking into the mirror to see Myri's lips pull up into a smirk, "some say he is the son of a whore, a bastard, and when his father found out about him he tried to kill him but Merek got away."

"That sounds like something you would believe, but it's unlikely. Where would a bastard boy learn to read, much the less wield a sword?"

Myri thought for a moment, putting the brush down and tidying up as Rosella changed into her nightgown. "Maybe he taught himself?" Myri offered, before curtsying and leaving the room.

Rosella thought long and hard about the servant boy.

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"What do you want us to do with the survivors My Lord?" Aelan's eyes traveled over the quivering men that kneeled before him as he considered Maelin's, his younger brother's, question. It would make a huge statement about his leadership when word got out about the attempted invasion, and he needed to make sure every move sent the right message.

The battle was short, with few casualties on Aelan's side. These men were nothing more than rebels and thieves who were confident that under the new leadership, Unending Forrest would fall quickly.

"Want me to put their heads on spikes, warn off any other bastards in the area?" His other brother, Alnon who was the youngest offered, his voice rumbled slightly and blood dripped down his blade. The men made no noise.

"Spikes, are you joking, brother?" Mealin sneered at Alnon before turning to Aelan. "I say you just slit open their bellies, only enough to have their blood running and their guts showing and give them a head start into the woods before we set the hounds on them. It'll send a good message to any other fucker who wants to invade, and the hounds get to have some fun."

A prisoner jumped up, scrambling to run away, but was killed instantly by one of the Unending Forrest soldiers standing by. He screamed and begged for mercy before his throat was cut. Aelan observed as the some of the other men began to wail as well for mercy, but most kept silent.

"Hush Mealin, you're ways are to harsh." Aelan sheathed his blade as he continued to think.

"Well what the hell are you going to do with them, My Lord? You outlawed slavery so they can't work in the lumber fields. And we sure as hell can't let them go," Mealin ranted, honestly, although Aelan was the elder brother he could be so naive some times. Mealin adored his brothers, but sometimes he got sick of their stupid honor. Honor didn't keep people safe, nor did it keep invaders away, force did.

Aelan sighed, turning his back on the prisoners and motioning for his brothers to follow him. Turning to one of his commanders he gave a signal; quick deaths, save a few heads for spikes. While it was rather barbaric, he would rather be feared by outsiders than thought to be a kind man. There were many dangerous clans in the Unending Forrest, way to many to fight.

"You're to soft brother." Mealin grumbled when they returned to the dining hall, Aelan's children eating the food quickly, they were stuck in that room all night and most of the day. "How do you expect the Lords to respect you if you don't earn their fear and respect?"

"The same way you get women to sleep with you, by showering them with money and praise." Aelan grinned as Alnon choked on his drink from laughter, Mealin just blankly stared at his idiot brothers.

The wood table was made of the finest wood, not even the Queens throne was of such high quality. The food was plentiful, and even the poor peasants of the Unending Forrest had an equal amount of money to some of the high merchants in other cites. Unending Forrest was by far the richest of all the kingdoms, rumored to be even richer than the royal family. There was no poverty, no child went without food, the horses and goats were high bred, and their weapons were top of the line. No Lord would be foolish enough to outright offend the Ironbark family who controlled it all, but that didn't mean they didn't plot to take them over.

"I don't care if your are the head of our house Aelan. You're still a fucking idiot." Mealin then turned to his niece and nephew, "Hopefully you both got your mother's intelligence and not your father's stupidity."

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**Ok that's the first chapter, so for everyone whose character was shown tell me if I portrayed them correctly. I did change some things with the minor characters like the children and brothers, but tired to keep everything else the same. Please review so I know your thoughts, also it lets me know who's reading so I can know whose character to show more often. If you don't read I'm not going to use them, simple as that.**


	3. Chapter 3

Light filtered in through the deep green linin curtains, specks of dust turning golden in the morning sun. Slowly sitting up, Sarine began to stretch, popping her back and sighing lazily. She did not look down at the being that was breathing deeply next to her, it was to early to wake him. Slipping out of the closet like room, Sarine quickly padded down the hall, ignoring the lewd noises of the brothel and heading towards the bathing area. If she was lucky, it would not be crowded. Her most recent client was during midday yesterday, so she did not have to deal with a hung-over man this morning.

The humid morning air stuck against her skin as she stepped outside. The bathing area was nothing more than a well, a tiny stream and a few buckets that ran behind the large stone building. Small sprigs of grass have attempted to break through the stone. Sarine continued towards the stream, nodding to two other girls who were not occupied with customers at the moment, before slipping off her gown and stepping into the water. It was slightly murky, and the algae squished between her toes as the current flowed lightly.

It was these small moments in Sarine's life that brought her joy, something she faked often but did not experience as a whore. Of course, her son was her ultimate source of happiness in this world, her little Revan. His innocence and wonder forced her to experience emotions that she thought she had forgotten when she was sold to the brothel of Cidaris.

Dunking her head under the water, she smoothed her ginger hair into place. It was thick and healthy, as was the expectation of the owner of the brothel. She was an ambitious woman; there was no room in the high-class whore house for dirty, savage, and ugly girls. Everyone here was handpicked by the mistress herself; each to fulfill as specific desire.

"Sarine," not bothering to turn around, she glanced over her shoulder to acknowledge the other prostitute. "You have someone waiting for you, they're already in your room."

"In my room?" Sarine stood quickly; barely managing not to slip as she quickly pulled on the almost transparent robe all the girls wore. Water streamed down her hair, turning the back of her dress a shade darker as she ran to her room. There was a man, a client, in the room with her son.

Stepping into the room, her grey eyes scanned the room, quickly regaining her poise before the client could see her fear. Revan was not on the bed where she left him.

"Well if it isn't my dear little sister," There in the corner of the room sat a man, with short ginger hair, very much like her own. Revan sat at his feet, marveling over a toy soldier the man had presented to him.

"Do not call me that, Ramsay." She approaches him quickly, scooping her son into her arms and holding him to her chest, glaring down at her half brother as he continued to sit there with that stupid grin on his face. "Why are you here?"

Rolling his eyes, Ramsay rose from his chair and walked around the room, taking inventory of each item with distaste. Although he was not close to Sarine, it pained him to know his only family was living like this. Well, the only family that he had any contact with.

"The same reason I come here every time I visit; to see how my strong little nephew is fairing." His dark green eyes met her grey as he leaned against the wall, his thick red robe bushing the floor slightly.

"No." She placed Revan on the floor, he instantly fled the room, more interested meeting with the other children of the brothel than listening to the adults. Sighing, Ramsay walked over to the door, closing it with a bit more force than he intended.

"Why are you so attached to this place?" He grinded out, glaring at her for a moment before rubbing his temples. It frustrated him to no end that she refused to allow him to take care of her and Revan. He had more than enough money, more than enough time. "You know what kind of life awaits Revan as long as he is both a bastard and the son of a whore. There is nothing for him as long as he is in Cidaris, nor for you!"

"If you're going to stay, the least you can do is ask me about my health and the health of my son before you start your lecture." Sirine sat down on her bed, examining her nails to make sure there was no dirt. Saying nothing, Ramsay swatted away a nat that buzzed near his ear, the coins in his pocket jiggled. Hearing the sound, Sirine pursed her lips. "I thought that you didn't believe in money."

"I do not," he shrugged, pulling out the velvet coin purse, "but everyone else does. Having a bit on me never hurts, after all, there is usually no greater motivation for a man than these pieces of metal. No greater motivation for a whore either, I suppose."

"Get out," She snapped, jumping to her feet and striding over to him. Grabbing the fabric of his sleeve, much too thick for the Cidaris heat, she attempted to drag him outside. Calling security would be useless, not even they could make her stubborn bastard brother move when he didn't want to. He didn't budge, and she released him. Her eyes traveled up and down his body, taking in his clothing for the first time. His boots were thick like his robe, and gloves covered his hands. It was clear he must have just arrived at Cidaris, maybe from beyond the mountain that separated the Capital from Cidaris.

Backing away slightly, she held her ground, glaring at the larger male.

"You're here on business?" She guessed, ignoring the giggles of girls passing by her room, most likely showing their clients to the door.

"If that's what you want to call it." There was a slight knock on the door, and Sarine turned her back to him, rushing to open it. Headmistress hated to be kept waiting, and the other girls would surly tattle if she did not answer. She pulled the door open and a busty women, Thya, smiled as she opened the door.

"Oh," she peaked over Sarine's shoulder, and gave Ramsay a look over before smiling at him as well, "I didn't know you had company. I'll come back later."

"Don't worry, darling," Ramsay was instantly behind Sarine, kissing her on the forehead as he addressed Thya, "I was just leaving."

Sarine eyed him critically, her pale skin seemed to reflect the light filtering in through the window, but he only bowed mockingly before he left. It was never a good thing when he was in Cidaris. Although she wasn't completely sure what her half brother did, she knew it was not legal. Ramsay was a free spirit, to wild and to proud to pledge his allegiance to any nation, not even the Queen. He came and went as he pleased, but he always made sure to visit her whenever he was in town. Sometimes there were others with him, and in the past four or five years, there had been a younger boy, Karlon, with him, but he was nowhere to be seen today.

* * *

"Have you ever ridden a horse, Merek?" A line of horses and wagons stretched behind them as they left the gate of Cidaris. Dust hovered slightly above the ground as servants trotted along side the head family and their cargo. Rosella had opted to ride her brown mare for the beginning of the day trip, and Merek walked beside the beast. Her mother and father were inside a carriage further back, and she was unable to spot her sister.

"No, My Lady, I haven't." Shifting his pack further up his shoulder, Merek ignored the weight of the new sword on his hip; a gift from the Lord himself. It was a unique blade, thin and long with an extravagant hilt; almost as if it was for show and not for killing. Although he would rather have used his old, low quality sword, he did not dare disrespect the Lord by rejecting the gift.

Rosella's curiosity continued to stir, her hair slapping her in the face as the winds became more violent; a storm would catch up with them soon. He didn't look at her when he talked as he usually did, and his posture became stiff. Over the past few days she had watched him, his mannerisms and reactions, analyzing everything he said and how he said it. At this point she was confident that he was lying about never riding a horse and called him out on it.

Merek simply glanced at her when she accused him of lying, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at his Lady as a smirk tugged at his lips, but he continued to be silent.

"Merek, lying is a crime punishable by death in Cidaris." Rosella tried to force a reply out of him, her body swaying with the horse's movement. The sun was directly over head now, burning her pale skin and turning it a deep red color.

"Forgive my bluntness, My Lady, but if you think that I am the first person to lie to you in Cidaris, then perhaps you don't know your own people as well as you imagine." Merek continued to look straight forward, ignoring the slight ache in his feet from the continuous walking. He had walked long distances before, but with the sun burning his flesh, Lady Rosella's constant interrogation trying to break though his personal space, and the bugs gnawing at his exposed neck, his patience and energy were becoming strained.

Shocked at his frankness, Rosella's eyes widened slightly, before her face returned to it's neutral façade. She look at him, considering everything about him. He was young, he was an outsider, and he was not afraid of her powers as heiress; yet her father trusted her life with him, so there must have been some redeeming quality about him. It was in her nature to question people, to be curious about everything, and to suspect anything she could not figure out. Merek was not something she knew and understood, therefore she suspected him, and his constant lying did not help either.

Although, she realized, guilt making her frown, she hadn't been very kind about her inquiries. Well they were more of orders really. At times she forgot that just because she was a noble did not mean she was automatically liked, nor did she have the right to demand information from her followers.

"Have I offended you, my Lady?" Rosella was pulled back into reality, her eyes fluttered as she cleared the haze in her head. A horse and its rider came up behind them, galloping in front of the group, most likely to give the Lords of Miser some warning of their arrival.

"No, you haven't." There would be no apology, for Rosella was her mother's child and therefore to proud to ask or demand forgiveness. "What are you going to do when we arrive in Miser?"

Merek finally glanced at her, his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. She decided to elaborate. "Well you must have something else to do, you can't possibly go with me to the wedding, nor can you go with me when I am eating dinner with the nobles. That allows you some free time."

Humming loudly in understanding, Merek's eyes flickered to he thick vegetation. They had entered the swamp lands almost an hour ago, and he was sure every exposed inch of his body had been bitten or stung by now. "I don't know, My Lady, perhaps I'll go find a cave to read in. Miser is famous for the beautiful gems and stones found in them, perhaps I'll be lucky enough to find something of value."

"Something of value? Does my father not pay you enough?"

"Forgive me, My Lady, I did not mean something of monetary value, but more of," Rosella heard nothing else as her horse jerked, slamming her small frame onto the ground. Gasping for air, black dots dominated her vision as her mare began to panic.

Pushing herself up, she froze as dozens of men charged the line. More horses fell. The servants screamed, scrambling to escape the chaos by hiding in the swamp. They were cut down. Rosella froze, ignoring her fallen mare's limp body. Blood began to stain the muddy road a beautiful scarlet color. Unmoving eyes stared at the sky as she could not block out the images of the dead. She knew so many of them by name.

A scream tore through her mouth as two men headed towards her. Rape was the only thing that passed though her mind. As they neared her, she finally found her legs, pushing herself up and running. A gloved hand tangled in her hair and yanked her back. Yelping, she ignored the whiplash and dug her nails into the man's wrist, feeling his blood drip lightly in her fingers. Her back slammed against the ground, instantly soaking the back of her dress. Looking to the side, she was forced to look into the lifeless eyes of Myri. Rolling to the side, she dry heaved, almost puking. Myri was dead, there was so much blood.

The man kicked her in the leg, but she was unable to scream. A sword was lifted above her body, before death.

The man above her looked down, a blade protruding from his chest. All sound stopped as the blade disappeared, and her attacker fell to the ground. She blinked and Merek was in front of her, eyes darting in every direction as he hoisted her to her feet and pulled her towards the woods.

They stumbled through the underbrush, making far to much noise, but she still could not hear. All she could do is see; blood, so much blood.

"My Lady," Merek called out to her, but she could not move to respond. Her heart pumped loudly in her ears like an army horses galloping through her body. Rodents scrambled to get out of their way, before Merek pulled her behind a large tree. "Lady Rosella," Merek gently forced her to face him, and she dully noted that blood was sticking the sleeve of his shirt to his right arm while he held the blood soaked sword in his other hand; he was left handed. "I have to go back to the road, stay here."

Her body moved without her consent, all she could see were the dead bodies butcher on the road. She still didn't know if her sister was among them, she hadn't seen her at all. Grasping onto the bloodied sleeve, she jerked back, the warm feel of the sticky liquid on his arm making her sick. "No," voice hourse and shaky, she did not reach for him again. "you have to stay here, they could still be," She burst into tears, gasping for air as she tried to get ahold of herself. This is the first time she's cried since she was a young girl.

"Be quiet!" He crouch down, hissing at her. Her tears continued to drip down her face, but the noise stopped. Merek sighed, but did not attempt to leave again. They said nothing more, leaning against the colossal base of the tree. It was dangerous to go back to the road, however, it was even more hazardous to move through these swamps at night, so all they could do is wait.

It took almost an hour for Rosella to pull herself together, wiping her cheeks off with her hand. Mud smeared across her face, and she looked down at her dress. The bottom was caked in drying mud, the sleeves ripped and cover in holes. Her throat burned for water. There was no doubt she would have many bruises covering her skin, but would have to wait until day light to check. Breathing in deeply, she winced at the throbbing pain in her back.

Merek shifted next to her, trying to warm himself as the temperature dropped. She almost puked at the side of his arm, now thoroughly soaked in his own blood as the wound continued to flow. Skin flushed and eyes fluttering, she began to reach for him. He was losing to much blood to fast, she knew little about medicine, but she knew if he fell asleep he would not awake in the morning.

"Merek," She shook his uninjured arm slightly, "you mustn't fall asleep." Grunting slightly, he nodded, and forced himself to stay alert. Droplets of blood dripped down his fingers onto the ground and she tore her eyes away, squeezing them shut. Bugs began to swarm them, the warmth of their bodies and the stench of blood calling many insects to come out for a snack.

Merek breathed out deeply, his body shaking in pain. The cut was deep, and stung with every movement. The attack was to fast for him to block, to unexpected. When the attack started he tried to move towards Lady Rosella, but was forced to move back when an arrow tore through his flesh, going deep to nick the muscle under his skin. He knew he needed to wrap it, but had nothing sanitary enough and was not willing to risk infection.

"Lady Rosella!" The call was faint, but both heard it. Rising to his feet, Merek motioned for her to stay where she was, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood when he withdrew his sword. Even though is dominate hand was his left, he needed the right to hold onto the sheath, and the pain almost sent him to his knees.

He disappeared quietly, and Rosella was alone. She shivered slightly, trying to pull herself together in case it was rescue. Although, she wondered, if the were here to find her where was her family. Her father and mother had been inside a carriage, and she had not seen or heard of them since the beginning of the ride. Where they dead? And her sister, as troublesome as she was, was still missing as well. It pained her to think that they could be dead.

"My Lady," Jerrah crashed though the undergrowth and sighed when he saw her, moving towards her quickly. Three men followed behind him, but Merek was not one of them.

Rosella flew forward, rushing to the protection of her uncle. If he was alive then her parents must be as well, for he was beside their carriage at the start of the trip. He placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding the shivering girl back towards the road. "Are you alright?" He inspected her quickly, taking quick note of the bruises forming on her skin. She shook her head no.

It was a mistake of them to trust a servant with the safety of Lady Rosella, look at her, battered and scared. It was not a mistake he intended to repeat. Although he could not be fully negative towards the boy, after all Rosella was still alive, and suffered from no major injuries.

"Where's Merek?" As they came to the road, she was relieved to see that this was a part further down the path, she could not stand to see the carnage again. There were many survivors of the attack, the light glow of the moon cast a bit of light on their injuries. The Motra banner flailed violently in the wind, Miser soldiers mounted their horses and escorted the remaining party to the gates.

Jerrah gave her an odd look, before the name click in his head, "The boy's injuries were fatal. He was taken by one of the Miser soldier to the city to be treated for his wounds."

"So he's going to be alright?" They came to a stop in front of a man, towering over all the others, and he bowed to her. The thick scar that cut across his face and down his neck made him intimidating, but Rosella simply stared straight into his eyes; no longer quivering and reverting back into her usual demeanor. Offering his hand, the solider helped her mount his horse, before guiding it forwad. Jerrah walked beside her.

"He should be, Miser's women are known to be good healers." Stars started to hide behind darkened clouds, hinting at a possible storm. They entered the gates, the city's short stone buildings formed a protective circle around the castle that was carved into the mountin. The design protected them from the constant storms that hit the area. Clothing hung over her, string tied to a window on each side of the road. There were no children outside, it was to dark, but a few curious faces peaked out their windows to glimpse at what was left of the visiting Cidaris family. "Your mother and sister are already in the castle,"

"And my father?" Rosella felt relief and exhaustion sweep through her body, temporarily numbing the pain.

Jerrah helped her down from the horse when they arrived at the castle, before escorting her to her family's temporary chambers. "He's with Lord Crea, the Lord of Miser, trying to find a fitting punishment for the surviving bandits."

* * *

Merek sighed, his arm was in a sling, he would be useless for almost two months. He was sure Lord Maurizio would dismiss him, but it did not matter. With the money he was paid for guarding and serving Lady Rosella, plus whatever he could sell the sword for would be more than enough for him to survive on while he was wounded.

Laying down, he was happy to find that the blankets were thick and soft, enough to keep him warm and cushion his arm. This wound would take him out for a while, but maybe he could be of use elsewhere.

* * *

There had been no more attempts on the Unending Forrest, and Aelan was glad. He needed some time to unwind, all this stress was unhealthy according to his brothers. A hunting trip would distract him for a bit, maybe he would leave his advisors in charge during his absence. He could only imagine the horror of what would happen if he left the task to Maelin.

He had officially decided to not attend the wedding, but sent Alnon in his absence. The youngest brother had whined and complained, but had set off for Miser this morning with gifts for the new couple. Stripping off his armor, Aelan prepared for bed. His children were already asleep, guards stationed outside their doors to give him piece of mind, and Haeron, the family's pet fox, was most likely sleeping at the foot of Arwon's bed.

Flopping down on his bed, Alean lifted his head up when he felt a slight crunch under him, a letter that had arrived this morning from the Queen. He debated between opening it and leaving it for the morning. The window creak as the wind pushed against it, the fireplace flared for a moment, casting a brighter light into his chambers, before calming down. Taking it as a sign from his deceased father to get off his ass, he turned onto his back and broke the seal.

It seems that the Keeper of Books, the man who handled all of the financial manners for the royal family, was asking for yet another loan. Resisting the urge to throw the letter into the flames, Aelan simply tossed it to the floor.

They always came to him for money, and not a single sent had been paid back. The royal family owed him a large sum of money, large enough to buy the lands of every lord East of the Red Waste. Its not like he really needed the money back, the Unending Forrest was no where near a financial crisis, and there was more money than needed.

If he really felt like it, Aelan could demand that the crown pay him back immidently, and when they went bankrupt, he could rightfully claim the Jade Crown as his. Of course a few Lords may oppose him, most likely the Motra of Miser since they were the only ones who didn't owe him some kind of money, and maybe the Marionis would as well, since their armies were more than skilled enough to take the city at the moment, but the army of the Unending Forrest was as vast as the forrest that separated them from the Red Waste, if Aelan was to take the crown, they would stand behind him.

He would leave Alnon in charge of the Unending Forrest, and give whatever lands that challenged him to Mealin. His children would be royalty, and he would be a king. Deep rumbles of laughter tore from his chest. He could never imagine himself as a king. There were to many formalities involved to please him, and he would not pawn all his responsibilities off on his council.

He planned to write back tomorrow morning, and arrange a meeting with the Keeper of Books or the Queen herself to decide on an amount.

* * *

Ramsay did not bother to stop to see his sister on his way out of Cidaris. The rain poured down his back as his hood and cloak prevented most of the water from soaking him. His black stallion kicked up mud as it galloped through the rain. Ramsay intended to get as far away from Cidaris as fast as possible. The Flock had taken flight.

* * *

**A/N:** Alright, so this is really a set up chapter I suppose. If your OC has not appeared yet, they will within the next three chapters, guaranteed. Thank you for all the reviews, and if you dislike or have a suggestion regarding how I am writing your character please PM me so I may fix it.


	4. Chapter 4

GOT 4:

"Take care of your sister, Arwon," Placing a heavy hand on his son's head, Aelan crouched down to look him in the eyes, grinning, "you are the Lord of the Unending Forrest until I get back."

A crowd had gathered at the gate, people were dressed in the greens and greys, the colors of the Unending Forrest. It was early morning, the sun barely grazing over the horizon. Arwon tackled him, throwing his arms around his neck; Naela did the same, giggling. Of course she most likely had no idea what was going on, but it all seemed like fun. There was a big dinner last night, everyone was dancing and drinking, and there were so people outside right now.

Alnon stood behind the children, watching as Aelan detangled himself from them and stood up, nodding at the youngest brother.

"Travel safely, My Lord." Alnon gave a brief hug to Aelan, quickly pulling away. He never was one for public displays of affection, so Aelan took no offense. Quickly going over a few things that needed to be done before he returned, Aelan strode over to his stallion, Solt, and climbed on. He could feel every movement of the beast, its rib cage expanding and the black hair stretching when Solt took in a breath.

The group he would travel with would consist of himself, Mealin, and twelve guards. It was more of a show of power than for safety, but of course it was Mealin's idea. His horse rocked forward as it began walking, the thick moisture in the air made Aelan sweat and the grass to steam.

"We could make it by nightfall if we only stop once or twice, but it will be rough on the horses." Aelan tried to start up a conversation with one of his newer guards. A young man whose name he could not remember, only that he was good with a bow, even by the standards of the Unending Forrest.

Archery was taught to most children in the village, usually by older cousins or siblings. It was of tradition in the city, and had grown into their biggest strength. No outsider had ever beaten an archer from the Unending Forrest, it was a fact. However this boy was especially talented with his bow, and Aelan was willing to admit that the boy was even better than himself.

"I'm sure the horses can make it, they're stubborn bastards. And I looks like rain," The young man looked upwards, thick grey clouds lingering above them before a flock of birds passed over them. "After all, the birds are in flight. The downpour must be heavy then."

* * *

"That's just like you to leave and not say anything," The two men walked down the muddy path with their backs to Miser. Images of what happened only a day before did not haunt the younger of the men, it was one of the cleaner battle scenes he had witnessed. The wails of maids, the scent of iron, the warn feel of his own blood running down his arm were almost forgotten. The older man glanced at his companion, who looked like a child standing next to him. Grunting lightly he continued on, "I think it's stupid, they're going to come looking for you, and by extension me."

"No one ever goes looking for a servant boy, Alexander."

"No," Alexander agreed, "But when that servant boy conveniently disappears after an attack on the House of Marionis, well that's suspicious." A snake shot out of the bushes in front of them. Alexander ran his fingers through thick brown hair, and looked down to see the young man staring straight ahead, the bandage on his right arm would need to be changed soon.

"You worry to much, the Lords are far to distracted by the wedding to worry about a servant." The young man paused as the pain in his arm flared up for a moment, "Jerrah and Lady Rosella are the only ones who might notice, but I'm sure Merek will fade from their minds quickly."

"Merek, huh? That's one of the dumbest names you've ever taken, boy." Since the young boy known as Merek was a full decade younger than Alexander, the term didn't quiet fit.

"Don't call me that."

"What should I call you then, hm? Bastard? Kid? Peasent?" Alexander was having fun irritating Merek, the kid got flustered so easily.

"I would have thought they would have told you my actual name when they assigned you to bring me back to the base." Although he wasn't surprised, he was starting to wonder if his superiors even remembered his actual name. He had almost forgotten many times, and would whisper his own name when he laid in bed so he could not forget. If he forgot he would lose that little part of himself that wasn't an act, that wasn't fake.

"Nope, the bastards just told me to do whatever I had to do to get you out of there without blowing your cover. We've got someone else working in Miser so they don't need you there." They swamps canopy began to thin out and more sunlight filtered down on them, making Alexander's long sword glow. "Did you finish up everything though, kid?"

"Of course I did, everything is taken care of."

* * *

Miza sipped at the wine in her cup, the taste lingering on her tongue. She couldn't help but glance over at Rosella, the girl know around the kingdoms for her beauty. Her once deep violent red hair was now dulled from brown dyes, her mother's attempt to hide her identity, but her fiancé, Satano, wanted her to stop, so she did.

It's not as if she was excited about this arrangement, she had never envisioned herself as a wife, a doll to be shown off to the world. Miza had dreams of adventure, but this marriage would help her family gain back what was rightfully theirs, the nation of Misar.

"Do you not like wine, Lady Rosella?" Miza noted that the other young lady had yet to drink from her cup, but only nibbled at the food on the coffee table. "I can have the maids bring you something else."

"No thank you," Rosella quickly declined, "I am simply thinking, and wine makes it hard to do that."

"I suppose that's why the Queen drink so much though, so she doesn't have to think about her failure as a leader." Rosella's eyes snapped to Miza at the almost traitorous words, but Miza was continued to calmly sip her tea, blue eyes staring into space. Although she did not say so aloud, Rosella agreed. The queen had failed to keep control over the kingdoms under her after the King had died, and her son, the prince, was a bubbling fool with more bastards than a rabbit. The Jade Crown was only in their hands still because the Kingdoms of the East had yet to attempt to take it. However, if any Kingdom was to take it, the Unending Forrest would have the best chance. They are rich, skilled and loyal to their leader, Aelan Ironbark.

He was said to be a handsome and young man, although he was already the father of two young children. There were rumors that he and his brothers could take out small armies on their own with only their bows and swords, but they were most likely untrue. The only people foolish enough to attack the Unending Forrest head on were the small clans in the forest that stood between the Unending Forrest and the Red Waste.

The House of Ironbark is one of the oldest houses in the East, with the House of Motra being the second. Her betrothed was from that house, and although her family at one point in history had ruled over them, in recant times the Basson's had fallen and the Motra were quick to take advantage. Miza knew her marriage would save her family from extinction, because even though they stilled controlled the small area of Tiser, they were still at Miser's mercy.

"I suppose." Rosella answered carefully, a maid strode into the room, and Rosella couldn't help but notice how plain she was, even with the trademark red hair of the people of Miser.

She bowed low, looking at the floor, "You're father has summoned you to the gardens Lady Rosella, and they are ready to make the alterations to your dress in the map room Lady Miza."

* * *

The two girls exchanged formalities before parting ways. Rosella walked down the stairs, nodding as she noticed one of the men on her father's guard, Zeshath, was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. He was a friendly man, although his intimidating height placed his almost a full foot taller than her.

"Good day Lady Rosella!" They walked down the hallway, and he noticed her composure. She was usually a very calm women, but there was curiosity and worry in her eyes. "Is something the matter? I may not be the smartest man on your father's guard, but I'd like to help."

Rosella was silent, her hands folded in front of her neatly and her dress free of wrinkles made her look completely composed to an outsider. "Do you know of the servant boy who has been saved my life, Merek is his name, do you know where he is?" She had not seen him since they parted ways last night, and an unfamiliar woman had come in to serve her this morning. Myri's replacement. She did not allow herself to cry as memories of her dear friend came rushing back, but did take in a sharp breath when the scene of Myri's death played in her head. So much blood for such a tiny body.

Zeshath scratched his head and hummed slightly. He had heard of the boy, but had only seen him once, when he was brought to get his arm wrapped. He was a small thing, Zesath remembered, and looked far skinnier than what must have been healthy. "I don't know my lady, I haven't seen him."

"But you must have heard something." Rosella insisted, she could tell by the way he stiffed at her words that she was correct. "Tell me." It was an order.

"Well," Zeshath sighed, " I've heard that he left last night, but no one's gone out to look for him. He doesn't have anything of value really, the sword Jerrah gave him is easily replaceable, and he doesn't know anything important, he was just a servant."

Rosella felt confusion settle in her stomach and dread. Why in the world would Merek leave without saying goodbye? It was odd, now that she really thought about it. He was well paid, was fed and clothed and got to live in a wonderful castle. It must have been much better than the life he experienced before. After all he was half starved when he arrived, and he had nothing on him but a dingy blade, a mockingbird necklace, and the rags he was wearing as clothes.

Perhaps he was from Miser, and for some reason did not want to come back? But then why would he agree to take the job in the first place, and he showed no signs of nervousness when they were getting closer to their destination. He also said he had no where to return to, so maybe he could have been some kind of criminal and they didn't recognize him? No, Jerrah would have known, he can recognize an infant from a million others with description alone. Rosella resisted the urge to groan, her head was starting to hurt from going in circles.

However, Rosella looked at Zeshath, why did he hesitate to tell her what he knew about Merek. Perhaps something happened between her father's guards and Merek? No, then her father would have told her, but maybe that's why he summoned her right now? That didn't make sense either, because her father was a merciful man, he would rather throw a man in jail than execute him. So maybe Merek was just tired of being a servant, and now that he had a boatload of money he wanted to start a better life. Maybe learn how to fight for real. Yes, she decided, that made the most sense, he simply wanted to start over his life. But why didn't he say goodbye?

* * *

"Make it tighter here," Miza stood as still as she could as her mother circled her, ordering the servent girl to change things on her dress. The poor girl must have been a bit younger than herself, but Miza could already see the bags under her eyes from the stress of making clothes for nobles.

She jumped a bit when a needle poked her, and the girl began to apologize, tears almost falling from her eyes. Miza forgave her quickly, before going back to being a statue. Her hair was still short from cutting out the dyed portion, only reaching her shoulders. The mirror image that looked back at her, while dusty, was not something she liked. The women in the mirror was stunning, the light blue material made her hair seem darker and her eyes more alive than she felt. The girl she was used to seeing was in trousers, running around and exploring, always pushing herself to the limit.

She missed that. Being free to do whatever she pleased, to be able to say what she wanted and not have to censor herself. Her fiancé is a confident man, and very traditional, even for Miser. He thinks women should be strong, but should be calm and docile enough to raise children and please their husbands. They often got into arguments, which often ended in her mother begging him to forgive her and Miza sent to her room without dinner. However, Miza knew her mother only wanted what was best from her, and Miza's outspoken personality was going to be the end of their family.

Miza would not allow one of her sisters to take her place, as the oldest it was her job to protect them as best as she could against the negative things in this world. Sadly, despite her efforts to shield them from arranged marriages, her youngest sister, Kerri, has been request for an arranged marriage. Miza could not remember the kingdom, only that her mother and sisters would be traveling there after the wedding to discuss the terms.

They would leave her here, alone, with the man she could not click with. She did not hate him, but their life together would not be easy. He was too proud, too masculine, too arrogant; she was too bold, too fierce, too free.

* * *

Sarine walked her last client of the day out the front door of the brothel, ignoring his drunken praises. She felt sorry for this man's wife, he had mentioned her when he was most intoxicated, because she knew the women must have known what he did at night when he didn't come home. Did she care, did she cry over their failed marriage?

It didn't matter really; all marriages ended the same, with the women bitter and the man in the whorehouse, her house. Walking back to her room, Sarine's bare feet patted against the tile on the floor, the lewd sounds almost drowning it out. At times she wondered what her son would think of her when he was old enough to understand what she did. Revan was a smart boy, and knew far more than anyone his age already, and she knew she was doing in an injustice by not being able to get him a tutor. She could teach him the basics, reading, writing, a little math and music, but nothing else.

She paused two doors down from her room, knocking loudly. A women, thick blond hair in an arrange of curls opened the door and nodded to her, stepping to the side to allow her in. They exchanged no words as Sarine carefully picked up her sleeping boy, he was laying beside four other children so she had to be careful not to wake them. Once again, nothing was said as she walked towards the door, but she did leave a coin to the girl as payment for watching her boy.

As she opened her door she paused, her eyebrow rising as she stared at her son's pet cat sitting on the window. His long brown hair swooshed around as she closed the door quickly, almost wincing at the sound. Placing Revan in the bed she quickly shooed the small cat away from the window.

Pacing around the room she began to think of the things they would need for their trip. The brothel was selling her to a more prestigious location in the Capitol since they needed a spot filled but couldn't find anyone to fit it. She would not miss this place, but her son would, it was the only place he had ever lived and he loved Cidaris. However if they moved to the capital, she would get more money, and perhaps find a tutor to teach him everything he needed to know.

She didn't mind her job at all, not if it meant a better life for her son.

* * *

Aelan rolled his eyes at his men, he should have known the real reason why they wanted to get to the Capitol so fast. Whores. Each man, excluding Aelan who came for the drinks had a girl or two on their sides. His brother's whore had wavy black hair, and a beautiful body to match her face. She was even more lovely than Rosella from the House of Marionis. From what the owner of the brothel told him, Gwen was one of the most sought after whores in the East Kingdoms.

"Tell me again Lord Mealin about your home in the Unending Forrest, I've always wanted to go." Her voice was light but at the same time deep enough to make even the most innocent words sound suggestive, her grey eyes outlined lightly by black.

Mealin, almost completely wasted, slurred on about their home and how wonderful it is. "Itz 'ne of da safest forest you'll ever no!" He slurred, pulling her onto his lap, she giggled slightly. "We'z got the best fighters, and no one haz ever make it passed la gate."

"Wow, that's amazing," She gushed placing her hand on his chest and tracing it slightly, "The Unending Forrest sounds perfect, so why in the world would you ever come some place as rough as the Capitol?"

Mealin laughed, at what no one knew, "We've gotz to see her Magestic sea. The bitch needz more money. I'z didn't wanna come but that bastard," He pointed lazily at Aelan, who continued to ignore him in favor of talking politics with the owner, "don't trust mez enough to leeve me home lone."

"Oh? Well I think you'd make a wonderful Lord of the Unending Forrest." She continued to sweet talk him until he passed out drunk and his brother dragged him outside, paying her handsomely for putting up with him. Gwen smiled and laughed at the gesture. He had paid her double, for simply flirting with Mealin, what she usually made in a week. It must have been true that the Unending Forrest had more money than it knew what to do with.

* * *

As they rode off a man exited one of the girls room, his shirt not yet fully buttoned. The owner's face paled as he appeared, but Gwen only flashed a smile and winked at him.

"How was she Ramsey? She's a bit new, but I think she's talented?" Gwen knew Ramsey from way back, before she was a whore even. He was a charismatic man, charming and very dangerous. Even as a child he had always been far too clever for his own good.

"Not the best, and not the worst I've had, sweetheart, how was your night?"He finally popped the last button on his shirt into place, pulling his trench coat over it. Although he enjoyed himself, Ramsey wasn't here for the whores, but he needed the owner to leave before he could get to business. Before she could answer, he continued, "Why don't you go home for the night pal, after all, you're late on your payments, wouldn't want anything to happen to you this late at night."

The man paled, and scurried out. Gwen laughed at the scene. Even though his voice was friendly and his posture non threatening, his words and eyes were laced with promises of pain and regret.

"My night was wonderful, I made a good bit just flirting, didn't even have to work for it really." She jiggled the thick pouch in her hands, eager to go into the market tomorrow. Gwen didn't feel Ramsey at all, he didn't harm women, unless they were trying to act like men, then would treat them like men.

"Yeah, I thought that was the sigil of the House of Ironbark. I know that grey tree symbol anywhere." This was not good; this would ruin everything if the Ironbark's found out about them. "How long are they here for?"

"A while I suppose, they're here to supply the Queen with more money." Gwen plopped herself down, drawing her legs under her. "Also, it seems that the two eldest brothers are here, but the youngest stayed back, plus I only saw thirteen horses when they arrived, and one was carrying supplies. Would you like some wine?"

"Yes please," he plopped down beside her and watched as she gracefully poured a nice amount into a silver cup before handing it to him, "Did they say anything about the Flock, anything even hinting at it?"

Gwen laughed at Ramsey's worry, he always was very cautious. However, she understood his concern. If the House of Ironbark got involved to early, they would be crushed and everything they've done would go to waste. "No the only reason the other men even came was to showoff, Lord Mealin insisted that he could do a far better job of protecting Lord Aelan than any of those men, and Aelan could protect himself."

Pausing for a moment, Ramsey sighed, "I'm guessing that they'll come back at some point, find out as much as you can. Take care, my Swan." Ramsey rose up, intending to leave. He needed to change a few things thanks to this development, and wanted to do it as soon as possible.

* * *

**A/N: Well first I should mention that updates will be on Fridays. Thank you for your reviews, I've tried to introduce all the characters by now, but there is one character that hasn't made an appearance and honestly will not do so until further into the storyline. I've also noticed something different about the reviews of a Naruto SYOC and a Game of Thrones SYOC, since I've done both. This is just an observation, but I've noticed that Game of Thrones reviews usually talk more about my writing style than the actual events in the story, but Naruto SYOC people only talk about what's happening. So I'd really like to know what you guys think of the actual events and how you feel about the characters, because I want to know if the way I want you to feel about them if being received. Thank you. Good Day.**


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